The Queen and the Mistress E-Book

Gemma Hollman

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

'Hollman combines scrupulous research with spellbinding storytelling; The Queen and the Mistress will keep you turning the pages.' - Sylvia Barbara Soberton, author of Ladies-In-Waiting: The Women Who Served Anne Boleyn 'A must-read for anyone interested in medieval women's or royal history.' - Catherine Hanley, author of Matilda: Empress, Queen, Warrior 'In The Queen and the Mistress, Gemma Hollman challenges much of the misinformation and misconceptions which have surrounded both women for centuries ... A triumph of historical research and interpretation.' - Sharon Bennett Connolly, author of Ladies of Magna Carta: Women of Influence in Thirteenth Century England 'The Queen and the Mistress is an absorbing and masterful historical work, which you might not even notice because it is also incredibly fun. Hollman writes with obvious joy and sensitivity towards her subjects, bringing these complex women and their world to glorious life. I couldn't put it down.' - Eleanor Janega, Going Medieval Podcast IN A WORLD WHERE MAN IS KING, CAN WOMEN REALLY HAVE IT ALL – AND KEEP IT? Philippa of Hainault was Queen of England for forty-one years. Her marriage to Edward III, when they were both teenagers, was more political transaction than romantic wedding, but it would turn into a partnership of deep affection. The mother of twelve children, she was the perfect medieval queen: pious, unpolitical and fiercely loyal to both her king and adopted country. Alice Perrers entered court as a young widow and would soon catch the eye of an ageing king whose wife was dying. Born to a family of London goldsmiths, this charismatic and highly intelligent woman would use her position as the king's favourite to build up her own portfolio of land, wealth and prestige, only to see it all come crashing down as Edward himself neared death. The Queen and the Mistress is a story of female power and passion, and how two very different women used their skills and charms to navigate a tumultuous royal court – and win the heart of the same man.

Leseprobe

First published 2022

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Gemma Hollman, 2022

The right of Gemma Hollman to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 8039 9232 7

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

To Mum and Dad,

for always supporting me in everything I wanted to do.

The most gentle Queen, most liberal, and most courteous that ever was Queen in her days

Jean Froissart on Queen Philippa of Hainault

There was in England … an unchaste woman, a most shameless whore, named Alice Perrers … but she was advanced by fortune, for she was neither noble nor beautiful

Thomas Walsingham on Alice Perrers

Contents

Acknowledgements

Genealogical Tables

Introduction

1 The Count’s Daughter

2 Becoming Queen

3 A Growing Family

4 Love and War

5 The End of an Era

6 Making a Mistress

7 The King’s Lover

8 Danger at Court

9 Downfall of a Lady

Conclusion: The Queen and the Mistress

Notes

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

No book written during this time can fail to acknowledge the impact of the coronavirus pandemic on its production. This book was greatly delayed when access to resources shut down, but I would like to start by acknowledging the hard work of all the librarians and archivists across the country who endeavoured to open up new ways for historians to access their materials. A thank you, too, to the online journals and other source websites who opened up their digital resources for free, thus allowing the continuation of research despite the circumstances. My next thanks goes to Chrissy at The History Press for asking me to write this next book, and for helping me to shape my ideas when it was in its infancy. Thank you to Simon for ably taking over as commissioning editor when Chrissy moved on, and thank you to Jess for being such a fantastic publicist.

Thank you, too, to my parents for keeping me encouraged whilst writing, and for listening to me ramble random titbits at them over dinner. A special thanks to my mum for reading over early drafts and giving her opinion, and to my friends who did the same: Conor, Claudia, Desa, Glyn and Aaron. Thank you to my other friends, Cat, Fiona, Ella, Harriet and Michael B. for keeping me sane over the pandemic, with virtual birthday drinks and endless text messages. You kept me going so that I had the energy at the end of the day to sit and write all this. Thank you to Nick for always chatting to me about writing and our respective projects and to Jill for continuing to be my archive auntie – try not to put this one in the washing machine. And thank you Conor for staying by my side, for bringing a wonderful little cat into our lives and for being a great companion during lockdown. The days flew by with you. A final thank you to the wonderful historians who have done so much work on the reign of Edward III and the women in his life, so that I could learn about and fall in love with Philippa and Alice.

Genealogical Tables

Introduction

‘His like had not been seen since the days of King Arthur.’1 So says the chronicler Jean Froissart of the great King Edward III of England. But behind every great man is a woman, and Edward was no exception.

Edward’s mother was Isabella of France, daughter of King Philip IV of France and Queen Joan I of Navarre, and her later title of ‘She-Wolf’ was well deserved. In 1326 she deposed her husband, King Edward II of England, and ruled as regent with her lover for four years before her son took control of the kingdom as Edward III. Edward had a powerful role model in his mother, and she continued to influence him until her death.

The next most important woman in Edward’s life was his wife, Queen Philippa of Hainault, who was the daughter of the Count and Countess of Hainault. Edward and Philippa’s marriage had been a political one, but from the start the attraction between them was clear. Theirs was one of the most successful royal marriages in English history, lasting for forty-one years and producing twelve children. Philippa has been remembered as a pious, kind-hearted woman who excelled at being a wife and mother, and whose charity and mercy benefited not only the whole of the kingdom but also England’s enemies; a tearful plea to Edward famously saved the lives of prisoners-of-war at Calais. Her death in 1369 broke the king’s heart and, in the minds of many, marked the start of his downfall.

Philippa’s death did not leave Edward completely alone. A few years previously he had begun a relationship with the final woman who was to exert great influence on his life and the kingdom of England: Alice Perrers. Alice’s name has become synonymous with greed, immorality and cruelty. She became probably the richest woman in England through Edward’s patronage, and she held more land than most of the male nobility too. For hundreds of years after she lived, writers told of the seductress who charmed an ageing, mourning king into loving her, then proceeded to wring him of his wealth, his friends and his kingship. This Alice Perrers was so heartless that after the poor king died she even stooped to steal the rings from his still-warm fingers.

As is so often the case with the history of women in the medieval period, this is not the whole story. The tales of these women’s personalities and deeds have been twisted over the centuries, making each of them a caricature. This book focuses on the lives of the only two women Edward is known to have had romantic relationships with – Philippa of Hainault and Alice Perrers. At first glance these women seem like the angel and devil on Edward’s shoulders. Dig a little deeper and the real women begin to come to the surface, showing very different characters. Philippa was indeed an exemplary queen who in so many ways fitted the model for a perfect ruler, and yet she had vices of her own. She was in debt for most of her life, with Edward – and the coffers of England – continually coming to her rescue. Often portrayed by modern historians as greedy and keen to exploit the monetary privileges given to her as queen, she adorned herself with luxurious fabrics and was always dripping with jewels.

It is true that Alice gathered as much land as she could, and at times she was unpleasant to her contemporaries. But underneath the sexist judgements laid upon her for centuries, an incredibly intelligent, shrewd and confident woman emerges. In a time where many women only had two paths in life – marriage or a nunnery – Alice chose to forge a path of her own: mistress. Previous kings, of course, had mistresses, but their names have been lost to history. Only the legendary Rosamund Clifford, mistress to Henry II, came close to Alice’s fame before her. In a time when it was expected that only women from the nobility would be educated, Alice rose from obscurity and navigated complicated legal systems to build her empire, a feat which has astounded contemporaries and historians since. To be this astute, Alice was indeed a special woman. If she used her sexuality to her advantage, it was only to level the playing field with the wealthy, powerful men at court.

Though these two women dominated the court for most of the fourteenth century, significant parts of their lives remain in obscurity. Their dates of birth are not recorded, nor is Alice’s death, and we can only make educated guesses. Both seem to have been beautiful, but the exact nature of their appearance is difficult to pin down. For the past 600 years Alice’s family has been completely anonymous, with only the fantastic work of historians in the last decade or so starting to unravel her origins. Alice might have been infamous, but her contemporaries knew strikingly little about who she really was. So how does one begin to reveal the real women when so much has been lost or twisted?

There is a fine line between restoring the reputation of women of the past who have been unfairly judged, and going too far the other way to gloss over their failings. As with any person alive today, these women were complicated. They had good moments and bad, respectable qualities and those we may judge more harshly. It is important as well to look at them in the context of the time, where even for the nobility life could be harsh and one had to fight to stay afloat at court.

Alice Perrers has just one biography of her life, written in 1966 before new information came to light. Philippa was given her own modern biography in 2019, the only other one being published in 1910. This book is a contribution to this scholarship, and hopefully by placing these two remarkable women side by side, they can both be seen in a new light. The queen and the mistress, two women who loved and were loved by the same man.

1

The Count’s Daughter

As the queen’s coffin entered Westminster Abbey, accompanied by nearly thirty of her ladies dressed in black cloth and furs, the English nation reflected on her life. So greatly had she been loved and admired that the funeral procession had spanned six days, with thousands thronging to the capital to pay their respects. In churches across the kingdom, prayers were offered to God for her soul. Chroniclers would record their mournful eulogies, extolling her grace, virtue and gentleness. No one mourned her passing more than her devoted husband. Their marriage had lasted over forty years, and the king had promised her as she lay dying that they would be together in death, too. Within a decade this promise was fulfilled, and the old king was buried beside his queen.

Philippa of Hainault was medieval England’s longest-reigning queen consort, but her birth is shrouded in mystery. Surviving records of births of children, even royal and noble children, are notoriously patchy in a time before concerted efforts to keep official records of such things, and this was even more the case for women. If Philippa was born in her father’s territory of Hainault, as is very likely, then it follows that she was probably born in the principal town of Valenciennes, where her parents spent much of their time.

Philippa’s father was the illustrious William, Count of Hainault, Holland and Zeeland, a variety of independent territories in north-western Europe that bordered the kingdom of France and covered areas of modern-day Belgium, France and the Netherlands. His territories were not the largest in western Europe, but they were particularly affluent due to the trading skills of their inhabitants and the sumptuous cloth that they produced which was highly desired. This wealth gave William quite a bit of political power when dealing with his English and French neighbours.

Philippa’s mother was no less important, and in fact came from a higher bloodline. Countess Jeanne was part of the French royal family on her father’s side, being the granddaughter of King Philip III of France; her brother also went on to become king. Jeanne’s maternal grandfather was King Charles II of Naples, meaning she was related to rulers across Europe through her various aunts, uncles and cousins. Jeanne passed this royal blood down to her daughter Philippa, whose noble connections were to prove an invaluable asset later in her life.

The date of Philippa’s birth has been hotly debated by historians. The chronicler Jean Froissart – who was employed by Philippa for many years as a court writer and thus knew her personally – placed her at almost 14 years old upon her marriage in January 1328, which would have meant that she was born in early 1314. His evidence has not always been trusted, as he placed the year of the marriage one year early and got the age of her groom wrong.1 Philippa was one of nine or ten children that her parents had together, and the dates of birth of most of them are unknown. But recent historical research has given significant credence to the idea that Philippa was indeed born in 1314, the third daughter of Count William and Countess Jeanne.2

As the daughter of a powerful noble family, with the blood of monarchs running through her veins, Philippa would have had a very privileged upbringing. She would have grown up speaking French, the language of her mother and the surrounding regions, though she was also likely taught Dutch or Flemish too, and possibly even some English, considering England was one of the region’s main trading partners. Though Valenciennes was a favoured home for her parents, as medieval rulers they were required to travel between their various territories to ensure they were being governed correctly and gather loyalty from and popularity with their subjects. Philippa and her siblings would have joined them at times, allowing them a chance to learn about all of the corners of their parents’ lands as they grew up.

Philippa was part of a large family; not only did she have at least eight legitimate siblings, but her father was a notorious womaniser and Philippa is known to have had at least eight half-siblings as well. Unusually, Philippa enjoyed a very close relationship with her mother. Whilst many royal and noble parents in this period exercised some distance from their children, living in different households and travelling independently from them, Philippa’s mother doted on her children. This loving family environment obviously made quite an impression on the young Philippa, and was to contrast quite sharply with the family of her future husband.

As a young noblewoman of great lineage, it was expected that Philippa would make a good match and so she needed to be taught well. She would have learnt from her mother how to successfully manage a household and how to exhibit feminine virtues expected of a consort. She would have been taught how to sew, dance, sing and perhaps play an instrument, and she was certainly taught how to read. Her parents’ court was a cultured one, filled with poetry and music, and writing found a particular importance there, with the count and countess commissioning books and collecting personal libraries for their residences.3

Although there are many surviving images of Philippa, from her picture on her seal, to manuscript depictions, artwork in chapels and her tomb effigy, her exact appearance remains somewhat unclear. No concrete written description of her survives, and manuscript and seal imagery was often highly idealised to project the queen as a concept rather than as an individual. Her tomb monument is an excellent reference to how Philippa looked at the end of her life, but how she looked when she was younger, and smaller details such as the colours of her hair and eyes, is unknown.

A very famous description of one of the daughters of Hainault survives. In 1319, a marriage alliance was discussed between England and Hainault, and King Edward II of England sent an ambassador – Bishop Walter Stapeldon – to Hainault to engage in the negotiations. Stapeldon returned a thorough report to Edward, where he described the count’s daughter who was proposed to marry Edward’s son. Later in the century, an unknown person identified the girl as Philippa of Hainault by adding her name to the margins of Stapeldon’s written report, but in all likelihood the description is actually of her oldest sister, Margaret, for she was the daughter who had been at the centre of discussions around this time.4 The girl was considered to be a pleasing match for the young prince, but negotiations ultimately came to nothing.

Philippa’s family often travelled to the French court to visit their relatives and participate in important events, and her parents owned a house in Paris to stay in during these occasions.5 Possibly the first time Philippa travelled to Paris herself was in 1323 to attend the coronation of the new French queen, Marie of Luxembourg. Countess Jeanne’s cousin, Charles IV, had become king in January the previous year and had married Marie that September. As Jeanne was a close relative of the new king, and William was a powerful neighbouring ruler, the couple would have been expected to attend Marie’s coronation. They probably made it a family trip, bringing their numerous children with them to see the glamour of the French court and to make connections with the great and good.

The next year saw several important family weddings that Philippa almost certainly attended. In February 1324 her two older sisters, Margaret and Joanna, were married in a double wedding ceremony to the Holy Roman Emperor and the Duke of Jülich respectively. The girls were scarcely out of childhood, Margaret being 13 and Joanna 12, and both of their grooms were older: Margaret’s new husband was 42 years old, and Joanna’s was about 25. It seems that Countess Jeanne was not too happy at the age difference between Margaret and her husband, but the marriage was advantageous to Count William and his territories and so there was little she could do about it.6

Although Jeanne could not prevent the early marriages of her daughters, she made sure to act as a support for them. In spring 1326, Jeanne brought Joanna to stay with her in Hainault for three months because the young girl was suffering from homesickness. Three years later Jeanne travelled to her daughter’s court and stayed with her for an extended period as ‘through the absence of her parents [she was] very dejected’.7

Even at 10 years old, Philippa would have been aware of the implications of the marriages of her sisters. She would have known that the marriages were politically advantageous and would make her sisters very powerful and wealthy women, but she must too have been aware of the uncomfortable age gap of Margaret’s marriage, and how much Joanna was suffering being parted from her family at a young age. This might well have made Philippa apprehensive at her own future match. What would her husband be like?

The year of 1325 brought the answer, although Philippa would not have been aware of it at the time. Towards the end of the year it became clear that Jeanne’s father was dying, and as a devoted daughter she hurried to be with him. Jeanne left Valenciennes at the start of December and arrived in France a few days later, taking Philippa with her.8 Jeanne arrived just in time, for her father died a week after she reached him. His body was taken to Paris for his funeral and burial just a few days before Christmas. Both Jeanne and Philippa attended, and they stayed in Paris to celebrate a more sombre Christmas with their relatives in the French royal family. There were two very important visitors to the French court at this time whose presence was to change the course of Philippa’s life: Queen Isabella of England and her eldest son, Prince Edward.

Queen Isabella had travelled to the French court in March that year, ostensibly on a diplomatic mission to represent her husband, Edward II.9 England and France were in dispute over territories in modern-day France and as Queen Isabella was the sister of King Charles of France as well as queen consort of England, she was seen as the perfect mediator. In the end, sending Isabella to France turned out to be a grave mistake of Edward’s. Isabella had been increasingly isolated over the past few years by her husband’s favourites, the two Despensers, a father–son duo who were hated in England for the influence they wielded over the king and the wealth and power they were lavished with as a result. Edward had turned against his wife and treated her poorly and this had culminated in 1324 with Edward confiscating all of Isabella’s lands under the pretence of the safety of the realm, claiming that her territories were under threat from attack by France.10

Isabella viewed her ostracism as a gross insult to her position as queen and as a member of French royalty. A group of exiled nobles from England had taken refuge at the French court to escape the clutches of the Despensers and Edward’s wrath. Now, Isabella had managed to escape England and was in the safety of her powerful brother’s court. Importantly, she was welcomed by the exiled Englishmen who viewed her as suffering with them.11

In September, Edward II made the second grave mistake which played into the hands of his wife: he agreed to send his eldest son and heir, Prince Edward, to France to pay homage to the French king. Earlier in the year, Isabella had arranged a treaty between England and France which would bring peace if King Edward agreed to pay homage to the French king for the French territories he controlled.12 However, Edward knew that if he left England then the Despensers ‘would not know where to live safely’ because they were so hated in the realm.13 A perfect solution seemed to be to send his son to represent him so that he could stay in the country and protect his favourites.

What Edward II did not consider was that when Prince Edward arrived in France he was now under the control of his mother. Prince Edward was the heir to the throne, and Isabella could now claim to act in his name. She declared that the Despensers had ‘come between my husband and myself’ and tried to break the bonds of their marriage, and as such she publicly stated: ‘I declare that I will not return until this intruder is removed, but, discarding my marriage garment, shall put on the robes of widowhood and mourning until I am avenged.’14

Both Isabella and Edward were still at the French court when Philippa and Jeanne were in Paris at Christmas, and the four certainly met. The group were family, for Isabella was Jeanne’s first cousin. By May 1326, Edward II was no closer to enticing them to return to him. In the meantime, King Charles of France had a new wife, and William and Jeanne again made the trip to the French capital to attend her coronation. They would have brought their children with them to witness such an important event, but beneath the surface there appears to have been another motivation – to allow their daughter Philippa another chance to meet with the handsome English prince.

In January, rumours had already been circulating of a deal struck between Queen Isabella and Countess Jeanne during the latter’s stay in France. King Edward II had issued a public denial that his son was about to embark on a marriage in France, but his efforts were futile without possession of his son.15 The coronation of the new French queen gave Isabella a chance to continue discussions with Philippa’s parents about a possible combined future, and both sets of parents surely pointed out to their children the virtues of the other party.

That summer, shortly after the coronation, Prince Edward and Isabella left France for the court of Hainault.16 Once there, political negotiations were undertaken swiftly and conclusively. Queen Isabella made a formal alliance with Count William, where it was agreed that Prince Edward would marry Philippa of Hainault. This would elevate William’s daughter to Queen of England at some point in the future, and it would bring peace and prosperity between England and William’s territories, and thus increased trade and wealth for William. In return, William would supply military support to the exiled queen as his daughter’s dowry. His brother, John of Hainault, provided 700 troops and William himself hired around 100 ships filled with mercenaries.17

The marriage contract was sealed at the end of August, and Prince Edward swore on the Holy Gospels that he would marry Philippa within two years or else pay a £10,000 fine.18 This period of time was necessary because there were numerous blocks to Edward and Philippa marrying there and then in Hainault. As second cousins, the couple required a dispensation from the pope because they were within forbidden degrees of relation. Time was pressing, and Isabella and Edward needed to make their way over to England and sort out the political problems in the country and, more importantly, within the royal family, rather than waste time organising a wedding. Finally, the marriage in itself was not actually legal, as Prince Edward required his father’s permission and Edward II had expressly stated that he did not consent to the match. Despite these difficulties, 14-year-old Prince Edward had decided to support his mother over his father, and he recognised that the support of Count William was vital to this.

Although the marriage was politically motivated, it seems that the young prince and Philippa had an early attraction towards each other. Decades later, the chronicler Froissart was to write about the circumstances of their marriage. Froissart romanticises Edward and Philippa’s meeting, saying that out of all of Count William’s daughters Edward ‘loved Philippa above all the others’ because she was better company and had similar interests to him.19 In his version, the politics of the match come second to the true love of the couple who had become enamoured upon their meeting.

Some have taken this story as evidence that an older Philippa was viewing her marriage with Edward ‘through rose-coloured spectacles’, for Froissart gathered much of his information at first hand from the queen and her court.20 True, Philippa might have wished a more romantic story of her marriage to spread rather than the political reality. But this does not quite explain Froissart’s version. Although Isabella and Jeanne had discussed marriage between their children as soon as they met in France in December, they might well have not initially told the youths of their plans and instead encouraged them to get to know each other, in the hopes that they would like what they saw.

The marriage depended entirely on Edward’s co-operation, as Isabella had no authority to force it on him. It was therefore in Isabella’s interests to make Philippa seem appealing to Edward and she might well have needed little help in this. Philippa had been raised well by her mother and so she would have acted in an engaging and attractive manner around Edward, knowing how to converse well. She was well educated and cultured, and if she was of similar appearance to her sister who had been described years previously, she was certainly considered attractive.

Philippa, too, would have needed little encouragement. Marriage would have already been on her mind, and Edward was a very appealing prospect. As a prince and future king he was of excellent status to marry, but he was also handsome and athletic, and he was a very similar age to her, unlike the much older spouses of her siblings. Whilst the marriage was political in nature for the parents, for Edward and Philippa it might indeed have been a love match from the start that had the convenience of fitting in with their parents’ plans.

With the betrothal of Edward and Philippa, the path to war was swift. Isabella now had her relatives’ forces and the support of Roger Mortimer, an influential baron of the Welsh Marches who had fallen foul of Edward II and the Despensers. Isabella, Prince Edward and their supporters landed in Suffolk towards the end of September 1326 with a small force of around 1,500 men.21 Their aims were to reassert the royal power of the queen and prince, and to remove the hated Despensers from power. However, and perhaps to everyone’s surprise, they quickly found themselves gathering supporters from across England. It was not only the exiled nobles who hated the Despensers, and Queen Isabella was a popular figure in the country.

Earls, bishops, towns and cities all threw their support behind Isabella, and even Edward II’s two half-brothers, Thomas of Brotherton, Earl of Norfolk, and Edmund of Woodstock, Earl of Kent, and his cousin, Henry, Earl of Leicester, joined her. In October, Edward II was forced to flee London with his favourites, but he was ultimately unable to save them. The elder Despenser was captured at the end of October and swiftly hanged, drawn and quartered, and in the wake of this Prince Edward was made Keeper of the Realm.22 As Edward II was known to be on the run, making Prince Edward the country’s custodian meant that Isabella and her supporters could control the government in his absence. Making this move right after the execution of one of the king’s favourites was a strong statement of the power of the queen. In mid-November, Edward II was captured in Wales alongside the younger Despenser. Despenser was given a traitor’s death, just like his father, and the king was lodged in a series of secure castles whilst Isabella’s regime decided how to proceed.

Nominally, the aims of the invasion were complete. The Despensers were gone, and Isabella could take off her widow’s clothing and return to her husband.23 But Isabella and Prince Edward had seen how popular their revolt had been and had tasted power unrestrained by the whims of their husband and father. With everything that had happened, the pair realised that events had progressed too far for the family to ever go back to normal. Edward II was known for his vengeance, and he would not take kindly to such traitorous behaviour.

As such, it was decided that Prince Edward would continue to rule the realm on his father’s behalf for the time being. At the end of November, it was noted in the official record that ‘it pleased [Edward II] to send his great seal to his consort and son … and that they should cause to be done under the great seal not only what was necessary for right and peace, but also what should please them’.24 In reality, Edward II was anything but pleased. Isabella was now being given joint control of the country alongside her son, a unique situation in English history.

On 13 January 1327, England’s parliament decided that Edward II, who had reigned for just shy of twenty years, deserved to be deposed. It was declared that he was a weak and incompetent king who had taken bad counsel, had abandoned his realm and was not fit to rule.25 Instead, his 14-year-old son was to become king in his place. Plans were quickly put in place to secure this decision, and on 1 February Prince Edward was crowned King Edward III of England in Westminster Abbey.26

Throughout the dramatic events of late 1326, Philippa’s family had been at the heart of the action. Much of the initial invasion force was made up of Count William’s and his brother’s men, and John of Hainault played a conspicuous role in events. He now attended Edward’s coronation and he would have been quick to remind the new king of his obligation to his niece.27 Once Edward had taken time to organise his new government, the appropriate steps were made to ensure his marriage to Philippa could take place. At the end of summer, Pope John XXII finally issued a papal dispensation to allow the couple to marry.28 Philippa would soon be a queen.

Not long after the granting of the dispensation, a shocking announcement was made at court: King Edward II had died at Berkeley Castle. The official story was that he had died of natural causes, but within a few years Roger Mortimer would be accused of orchestrating the deposed king’s murder.29 Soon the legend would spread that the king had been painfully killed by a red-hot poker being inserted into his anus, perhaps an allusion to his alleged homosexuality, although this story is dismissed today as apocryphal. After Edward II was removed from power, Mortimer and Queen Isabella embarked on a relationship together, and Mortimer found his seat at the centre of power as a result. He certainly would have been well placed to cause Edward’s death, and with his newly budding romance with the queen he benefited from it too. Over the spring and summer, numerous plots to free the captured king had been foiled, and England’s old rivals, the Scots, had used the instability to invade the north. Keeping the old king alive was becoming a liability to the new regime, and that was something Mortimer did not want.

In December, Edward III travelled to Gloucester Abbey for his father’s funeral. Despite his deposition, the dead king was treated according to his status, with a wooden mannequin dressed in his coronation robes and adorned with crown, sceptre and rod placed on top of the coffin.30 In the midst of organising the funeral, Edward had not forgotten his betrothed, and plans for his marriage to Philippa progressed. In October, Philippa was at her parents’ home in Valenciennes surrounded by excitement. Some of the most important men in Europe – many of whom were related to Philippa – had arrived for the preparations of the young girl’s wedding.

Edward now sent the Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield to Valenciennes to conclude the final parts of the marriage settlement with Count William. By the end of the month, the bishop had fulfilled his duty and the final terms were agreed upon. Whilst there, he also performed a marriage by proxy with Philippa as another step towards her marriage with Edward.31 The couple were now tied together. All that was left was to prepare Philippa for her departure to England and her new life as queen. More than ever, Philippa probably wished to rely on her mother, but amidst the elation of wedding preparation, tragedy struck – Philippa’s sickly younger brother died, aged 2. The funeral was held in between organising Philippa’s marriage, and Philippa’s mother was dealing with the tragedy whilst heavily pregnant.32 Between dealing with her pregnancy, the funeral of her child and the logistics of planning her daughter’s wedding, Jeanne might have had little time to spend with her daughter.

The time was drawing near for Philippa to leave her home for new lands. With her marriage, her life would completely change. She would go from a 13-year-old girl to a queen of an important and powerful nation. She would move to a new country with different languages and cultures. She would have heavy responsibilities that put her in control of people’s lives. On 28 November, Edward ordered two of his most reliable and loyal men, Bartholomew de Burghersh and William de Clinton, to bring Count William and Philippa to England safely.33

Though Philippa was to travel abroad, her father would accompany her to ease the transition – an uncommon occurrence among rulers at this time, and something that perhaps shows William’s love for his daughter. The couple had a papal dispensation, had been married by proxy, and there was the treaty with a punishing fine made the year before. William could hardly have been worried about Edward reneging on his promises when the marriage was all but set in stone. The more likely reason is that he wanted to see his daughter off on her new life and confirm she was adequately cared for.

In the middle of December, Philippa bade farewell to her beloved mother, her siblings and her country. In the end, her father did not join her. Around the time that Philippa left for England, her mother gave birth to another son who died shortly afterwards. With a wife due to give birth any day, William obviously decided she needed his support more. After the death of two of their young children within two months of each other, the Hainault family and court spent Christmas in deep mourning, and many ladies were recorded as travelling to Valenciennes to comfort Jeanne in her grief.34 Philippa had to grow up more quickly than she expected.

2

Becoming Queen

Philippa of Hainault landed at Dover near the end of 1327, escorted by her uncle John instead of her father, and she made her grand entrance into London just a few days before Christmas. She spent the festive season in the capital, preparing for the next leg of her journey and making her first impression on her new subjects. She was showered with ‘most splendid’ presents from the Londoners, including a variety of foods and items of gold and silver worth 300 marks (£200), a significant sum. Great feasts and celebrations were held over several days with ‘all the ladies and all the barons of England’. Philippa stayed in London until 27 December, when the royal party made the 200-mile journey north to the city of York.1

York was not a usual location for a royal wedding, but in this case the choice seems to have come from extraneous circumstances. In November, the Archbishop of Canterbury had died, and his position had not yet been filled. It was thus decided that the Archbishop of York should perform the ceremony, and so it was thought fitting that he marry the couple in his own cathedral.2 It took just shy of a month for the whole royal court to make its way there, with Philippa’s retinue arriving on 23 January.3

On Sunday, 25 January 1328, Philippa of Hainault married King Edward III of England.4 Edward’s reign had officially begun on 25 January the year before, and it was also the anniversary of his parents’ marriage, so the day was already auspicious in the court’s calendar. Philippa and Edward were finally man and wife. As was the custom for royal marriages, celebrations lasted for several days, with most of the court there to feast, dance, joust and toast to the newlyweds. The couple would have had little time to themselves to get to know each other. Lavish and costly gifts circulated, and no expense was spared to make sure Edward and Philippa (and Queen Isabella) looked the part. Over £2,400 was borrowed from the Bardi, a group of Italian bankers who had been lending money to the English kings since at least 1290, to pay for gold and silver jewels purchased in Paris for the wedding.5

Philippa had her own gift to give her new husband: a beautiful manuscript that had been specially commissioned for the occasion.6 Work had started in late 1326, just after the alliance had been made and Edward had pledged to marry Philippa. The book was a collection of texts and prayers which was carefully and elaborately decorated by a single artist, with Edward and his bride depicted within. The texts included advice for rulers, romances and pieces of history. This book was complemented with a second one that contained pieces of music thought to have been performed at their wedding, with a picture of Edward III holding a falcon on the cover.7

At the time of their wedding, Philippa of Hainault was almost 14 and King Edward III, at 15, was slightly older. Whilst the couple were considered old enough to be man and wife, royal convention tended to wait until the girl was at least 14 to allow sexual relations to begin and, partially for this reason, the couple were soon to be separated.8 Not long after the wedding, Philippa was taken to London whilst Edward stayed in York to preside over a newly called parliament.9 The reality of her situation now hit Philippa, and when her uncle John left her to return home, she wept.10 Her family had left her in a foreign land, she was separated from her new husband, and she was alone, a young teenage girl.

Philippa did have some members of her homeland to keep her company, however. A household needed to be assembled to take care of the young queen, and several of her male retainers were native Hainaulters. Her new ladies and female attendants, though, were mostly English. As a young teenager, Philippa needed to quickly learn the customs, traditions and etiquettes of her new kingdom and the easiest way to do so was to have native women around her.11 Queen Isabella, keen to keep a close eye on the new queen, might also have encouraged filling the girl’s household with women she considered loyal, for several of Philippa’s early attendants are known to have previously served Isabella.12